


The Stag Prince

by NiteWrighter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Animal Death, Dullahan Reaper, F/M, Faerie Queen Moira, Irish/Scottish Mythology, References to the Child Ballads, Shapeshifting, au: fairy tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 01:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16844545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiteWrighter/pseuds/NiteWrighter
Summary: A powerful Faerie Queen shapes a son and heir for herself from birch and amber. The thing about having children though, is that they don't always do what we want them to do. Like fall in love with mortals.





	1. The Stag And Huntress

Once upon a time, a powerful fae queen shaped herself a son and heir from pale birch wood. She carved fair features for him, gave him two eyes of red agate and blue sapphire, and hair orange like autumn leaves. In his chest she embedded a heart of amber, and she filled his lungs with the wind that shook the trees, and he awoke.

“Your name is Aedan,” she told him, “You are a prince and guardian of this forest. And should man or my enemies ever slay me, you will take up arms and avenge me, and then rule in my stead.”

The prince understood this, and accepted this, and so for many years he fulfilled his duties with grace and solemnity, content in season after season, century after century. Kingdoms rose and fell around their forest, but no human could penetrate its heart. The Queen’s kingdom thrived in its isolation, while other dynasties of fair folk collapsed and were forgotten. Sure it was a bit lonely, but Aedan found comfort in the song of birds and the chatter of squirrels, and he himself took to the habit of taking the form of a red stag, dappled with white, by day.

He knew of humans–most of the humans he had seen had been burly aged woodsmen and would-be hunters, though he had seen his fair share of mortal women as well. There were the witches and their apprentices, who would walk through the woods gathering mushrooms and herbs, leaving saucers of milk, small cakes and vials of brandy, and wedges of cheese in exchange for safe passage through the woods. There were pretty young women from the towns as well, giggling girls dressed in green, kilting their kirtles above their knees and daring each other into the woods on full moons because legend said that would draw his attention—usually he only had to turn into a fox and keen to send them running, shrieking and laughing out of the woods and back to the safe arms of civilization. Mortals to him were, at best, an amusement to trick or leave little gifts for, and at worst, the potential destruction of all he held dear. So, like any Fae worth his salt would be, he was fascinated by them, but knew well to keep his distance.

…until he didn’t.

One day, the prince saw two figures crossing through his forest on horseback. A grim man with graying dark hair, and a cloaked figure riding behind him. Aedan, in the form of a red squirrel, watched them from the bough of an ancient oak. The grim and graying man carried a bow, and the smaller figure behind him held a sparrowhawk aloft on their gloved hand.

 _Hunters,_ thought Aedan, disdainfully, _Must be very brave to come to my forest… let’s see how brave they are with a swarm of hornets bearing down on them._

As he was willing his magic to the tree and the earth to call a plague of stinging insects upon the pair of hunters, the cloaked figure with the hawk pulled their hood back.

And Aedan stopped.

The second figure was a girl with bright eyes and thick eyebrows, and wild, flame-like dark hair tied back in a voluminous ponytail with a green ribbon.

“It’s beautiful here,” she said, looking around, “Do you think there are really faeries in this place, Uncle?”

The graying man scoffed. “That is only a tale they tell to keep children and fools from wandering into the woods.”

The girl sighed and let her eyes trail up to the forest canopy. Aedan watched her tuck a stray bit of hair back from her face, until she made eye contact with him. Well… he was a squirrel. Nothing unusual there. Nothing to worry about if a human saw him. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and a smile spread across her face.

 _She’s smiling at me,_ he thought, and for the first time in centuries he felt his amber heart swell and crack with sweet sap within his chest.

Then she took the hood off of her sparrowhawk. The hawk’s head swiveled around to look at him and its pupils shrunk to pinpoints.

 _Oh,_ thought Aedan, and the hawk shot toward him. He leapt off of the tree limb and the bird swept upward. He landed in a batch of ferns and heard the hawk screech and change direction, moving to dive-bomb him. He didn’t think. He turned into a wolf, the largest wolf he could, and charged out of the brush.

“Look out!” shouted the grim man with the bow as both of their horses spooked. He was thrown from his horse while the poor girl struggled with one foot caught in her stirrups as her horse bolted through the forest. Aedan heard something whistle through the air and felt a burning pain in his left hind leg, but still he kept running while the bowman was still trying to calm down his horse. He lost sight of the girl, but he could feel blood running down his leg. He ran and ran and ran, fueled by fear and instinct until he tripped over a tree root and tumbled into a glade carpeted by ferns and wood anemone, retaking the shape of a man in his fall. Groaning, he rolled over on his side and gave a glance to his leg, where an arrow was embedded in its side. He heard a groan nearby and flinched and ducked low as the girl, apparently thrown from her horse in its mad gallop, rose up from among the white flowers, picking stray leaves from her hair. She staggered to her feet and he stared at her, transfixed, until the slightest movement in his leg sent searing pain shooting through him. Iron. Metal. Mother had always told him to stay away from the stuff, and now it was stabbing into his leg. He couldn’t help but let out a grunt of pain. She quickly turned her head in his direction and looked at him.

“Who are you—Where did you–?’ she started but then her eyes widened at his his leg and she hurried over and stumbled down to his side, “Oh no…” she said, looking at his wound, “Hold still.”

“Wait—” said Aedan, “Give me a second, I need to—”

She yanked the arrow out of his leg.

“GRAHH!” he cried out in pain, but suddenly he felt something tingling, but not stinging over the wound. The girl had put a poultice over it and was quickly binding his leg up.

“Mother taught me some healing arts,” she said, wiping her hands on her trousers.

“I…thank you,” he said.

“We’d better get you out of these woods, there’s a wolf about, and he’ll probably smell–” she cut herself off and looked at the arrow she had pulled from his leg. Her eyes flicked from the arrow to him, “…blood,” she finished her sentence, but it was clear her mind had raced far ahead of the thought now.

“…This is one of my uncle’s arrows,” she said.

“…Yes,” said Aedan.

“Why would my uncle shoot you?” she asked.

“It… was an accident?” said Aedan.

“My uncle doesn’t ‘accidentally’ shoot people,” she said, looking at the trail of wreckage his tumble had torn through the carpet of wood anemone and sorrel. She pursed her lips and she looked at the area around them with the keen eyes of a hunter. She saw the edge of the glade, where a single wolf’s pawprint had sunk into the loamy earth, and claw-marks marked his loss of footing. She slowly turned and looked at him.

“What… what are you?” she asked.

“I’m a human,” he replied stiffly.

“Were you a human five minutes ago?”

Aedan opened his mouth, then closed it.

“You were the wolf,” she said, looking down at the arrow.

“I–what? Me? The wolf? That is ridiculous. Preposterous. I cannot believe you would for one second assume that that is anywhere close to possible. I have never in my life heard of anything as silly as– _Look out behind you!”_ he pointed over her shoulder and she turned around and he turned into a stag and attempted to sprint off, only for pain to sear through his side and force him to collapse before he even reached the edge of the glade. She turned back around to see a stag struggling on its side, its forelegs flailing amidst the white flowers.

“You know… the way the locals talked about you, I assumed faeries were far more dangerous,” said the girl, walking over.

“We’re very dangerous,” returned Aedan, his voice half a rutting bellow as he shifted back to human form.

She giggled a little and everything his mother had taught him told him he should be furious. How dare she giggle at him? He who had the blood of kings and gods and the rivers of the earth running through his veins? But he wasn’t furious. He loved the sound of her laugh, somehow both lilting and rich.

“Rei! Where are you?” a voice broke through the trees.

Rei. The girl’s name was Rei. Rei of sunlight. Rei-of-Raven-Hair. Rei-diant. He probably would have been more transfixed by the name if Rei hadn’t shouted, “Coming, uncle!” and immediately alarmed him to the fact that another mortal was in the immediate vicinity.

“I can’t let him see me,” Aedan’s voice was low and hushed.

“Then you should leave before–” Rei whispered and then caught herself, “Oh! Here!” she took the green ribbon tying her hair back, and it fell thick and wild about her shoulders. She took his hand and put the ribbon in his palm. “You need to give the faeries a gift for safe passage through the woods, right?”

“I–yes..” said Aedan.

“I don’t have any sweet cakes or milk on me. Faeries like green, though, right?” said Rei.

Aedan nodded a bit blankly before catching himself. “I–I can’t give you safe passage if you insist on hunting here,” said Aedan.

“I’ll find an excuse,” said Rei, smiling, “I’ve never met a faerie before. I suppose that’s worth more than a few braces of squirrels and coneys, right?”

“Rei!” Rei’s uncle’s voice drew closer.

“I’ll be right there!” Rei called back.

“You can come back,” Aedan blurted out.

“Come again?” said Rei.

“If… if you want to come back to these woods, you can. Not your hunting parties. You,” said Aedan, “As prince of these woods, I give you leave.”

“Ooh, a prince!” Rei said with a grin, “I didn’t know I was talking to royalty, your majest–”

“Aedan.”

“What?”

“My name is Aedan. Call me that,” said Aedan. With that he turned into an impressively large dragonfly, still clasping the green ribbon in his six twig-like legs, and zipped off out of the clearing just as Rei’s uncle came into sight, the reins of two horses in one hand, and Rei’s sparrowhawk perched on the other. The dragonfly watched from atop a toadstool as Rei’s uncle handed her the reins of her horse.

“Who were you talking to?” asked her Uncle. 

“Oh no one,” said Rei, “I don’t think it would be fair to the horses to continue the hunt after all this excitement, don’t you?”

“Hmm….” her uncle looked at her skeptically, “Your hair ribbon. What have you done with it?”

“It must have fallen out when I was thrown from my horse,” said Rei, “Ah a green ribbon in a forest–might as well look for a needle in a haystack,” she swung up onto the horse, “Shall we go home?”

Hesitantly her uncle handed her her glove and sparrowhawk over. “Very well,” he said.

True to her word, Rei led her uncle from the forest. Aedan watched them through the eyes of dragonfly, robin, and squirrel. He followed them out to the very edge of the wood and watched them ride off toward the town and castle in the distance. His mother had always told him their forest was one of the last bastions of their kind, that mankind was flooding over the earth like decay, cutting down forests, bringing up great tomb-like fortresses of stone, filling the air with stinking smoke and the scent of metal. _And yet,_ he thought, retaking the form of a human and looking at the green ribbon in his hand, _They can’t be all bad—not all of them._ Something stirred in him then, he who had been so willing to let the empires of men rise and fall like the tides without so much as a thought. It felt like a creek unthawing, the idea that the world beyond his woods was so alien and rapidly changing (And that a certain dark haired girl was somewhere out there in that yonder) and all this time it had not occurred to him to look at it more closely. The stars and sun no longer wheeled so swiftly overhead for him–this was a mortal perception of time, that every second, every moment suddenly had boundless possibilities, because out there was a mortal, and every moment must matter to _her._

The days never seemed to pass so slowly, until, 7 agonizingly slow days later, Rei returned to the woods, alone this time. She brought a little cake with her to assure her safe return. “I’ll accept it, this time” Aedan said a bit haughtily, (You couldn’t just let humans walk in and out like the owned the place you know) “You invite much danger by returning to my realm.”

“Oh I’m terrified, your highness,” said Rei, taking out a second cake for herself and biting into it, not seeming terrified in the slightest, “I am quite lucky you are here to protect me.”

Aedan just smiled at this, took the cake she held out to him, then gestured out at the woods, “So–safe passage? What in these woods would you like to see?”

Rei ended up seeing far more of the woods in a matter of hours than most humans had seen of the woods in centuries. Aedan showed her swift-running creeks where silver and green fish darted in and out of sight, he took her to the top of the tallest tree in the wood, where the canopy of the forest lay out before them like a plush hilly carpet of greens and browns and golds, he showed her the standing stones which marked where god-kings of ages past had fallen in bloody battle. He would have shown her even more, but then the sun was nearly setting and she had to return home. But something started then. 

While doing her best not to neglect her lessons and her responsibilities on her family estate, Rei snuck off to the woods every chance she got. She could see him once every few days or so. Aedan as well, while being mindful to keep to his princely duties, always made time for her, dropping everything when he saw a familiar head of dark hair coming to the edge of the wood. She brought little gifts for him to assure her safe passage every time–a small cake, a wedge of cheese, brightly colored buttons (None metal, of course) and ribbons. Eventually Aedan was giving her gifts too. Rei’s mother and father wondered what she got up to in her wanderings, coming home with a dreamy look in her eyes and snowdrops and forget-me-nots braided into her hair. It was taken as a postulate that neither of their families could know of their relationship–both sides considered the other too dangerous, and while Aedan and Rei prided themselves and laughed over ‘knowing better’ in all the foolishness of youth, they still knew that if any of their parents knew of their meetings, that they would be forced to end it. So it was their secret, and the fact that it was secret made it all the more thrilling. 

Eventually in their absences, Rei took to staring longingly out the window of her room, out towards the woods, daydreaming, leaving saucers of milk out in the estate gardens at night (Which, while the fair folk’s reception of it was unclear, the local barn cats’ reception of it was overwhelmingly positive.) Aedan too was completely besotted, and the forest, being a reflection of his will, displayed that in the extreme. Wild strawberry and honeysuckle seemed to spring up where he stepped, great garish blooms of nasturtium climbed up the trunks of trees where he would lean to let out loud lovelorn sighs (Fairies have a tendency for the dramatic, obviously). The very wind in the trees and the groans of the branches seemed to sing in tune with this sighing, and it wasn’t long until the fairy queen noticed the excessive amounts of flowers around her kingdom, and the… distracted state of her son.

“What do you suppose is going on with him?” she said to a courtier as she watched Aedan humming a song Rei had taught to him.

“If I didn’t know better, your majesty, I would say the prince is in love,” The courtier replied.

“How interesting,” said the queen, “How very interesting.”


	2. Death Lords and Deceptions

“What is out there in those woods that fascinates you so?” Rei’s Lady Mother asked as Rei was embroidering one of her gowns, “Your uncle says you keep claiming sickness and putting off your hunting trips, yet you run off there every chance you get.”

“I like the birdsong,” Rei said, squinting at the ivy bordering her gown’s hem, “My sparrowhawk scares them off.” 

“I know you’re no longer a child, you can tell me if you have a lover,” said her mother.

Rei reddened and glanced off.

“The world has its share of rakes and scoundrels,” warned her lady mother, “I know you’re clever, but still I worry.”

“He’s not a rake,” muttered Rei with a slight smirk and eye roll before immediately catching herself. Her mother just smiled.

“I should like to meet him,” said her mother.

Rei just paled and set her needlework down. “I need to go,” she said, walking off.

—

“Tell me about her,” said the queen, as her servants bedecked her in amber and ivory.

“Who?” said Aedan, glancing up from his book.

“The girl–or boy—Whoever it is. Tell me about them. Don’t deny it, you’ve been sighing day and night,” said the Queen.

“What girl–? I mean—” Aedan caught himself.

“Girl then,” said the queen with a smile, “I’ve asked every corner of my court yet I cannot for the life of me find out who it is.”

“Oh well… you… wouldn’t know her,” said Aedan.

“I have known every tree in this forest from nut and acorn, and have raised the very standing stones which mourn the kings before me. That I would not know her is impossible unless…” the Queen blinked several times then squinted and leaned close to him, “Unless she is not of this wood.” 

Aedan bit the inside of his lip as his mother scanned his face. Finally she shrugged.

“Well, I suppose we all take human paramours from time to time,” she said, walking away from him briskly and examining her own appearance in a mirror, “Shouldn’t be a problem in a century or so.”

“A-a century?” said Aedan.

“When she dies, of course,” said the Queen, “As mortals are wont to do.”

“When… when she dies…” Aedan repeated, feeling as if his insides had just been scooped out of him.

“Yes, so by all means, sigh and long, and sing your songs. But for your own good, know it is fleeting. Their world is not our own, a thaisce,” said the Queen.

“Why can’t it be?” said Aedan.

“Pardon?” said the Queen.

“The world of Fae and the world of men… why must they be separate? Why must we hide in the trees and in the shapes of animals?”

“Because anything humans don’t understand, they destroy, and, my Prince, they have so little capacity for understanding.”

“Well of course they’ll never understand if we keep hiding from them!” said Aedan.

“ _We hide because it’s safe,_ ” His mother spoke with a breath as chill as night air and bright as moonlight and Aedan was silent. “I will hear no more of this nonsense,” said the queen, “Go to your paramour. Take what pleasures you can, but know they are fleeting.”

Aedan’s lips thinned and he turned on his heel and walked out of the chamber.

—

“You’re distracted,” said Rei, brushing Aedan’s hair back from his face as he lay with his head in her lap. Aedan was watching the autumn leaves shake and fall in the breeze, far more aware of the turning of the seasons than he’d like.

“Hm?” he broke his sight away from the leaves to look at her.

Rei snickered a little, “Well that proves it,” she said playing with his hair slightly.

“Rei,” Aedan spoke after a long while.

“Yes?” she smiled.

“Would you ever consider… joining the fairy court?”

“I’m not a fairy, you silly goose,” she said, tapping his nose.

“Well, if you ate food I offered you, fae food, you would be my charge… I…” he fidgeted slightly, “I’d… look after you.”

“But… that means I’d never see my family again, wouldn’t it?” said Rei.

“I—not necessarily, it… it would just be a lot harder…” said Aedan.

“But if I’m in the Fae court, I wouldn’t grow old or die. But they would…all my friends, too…” said Rei, looking off, “I… I don’t want that.”

“I see…” said Aedan, quietly, “But… I’m…”

“Aedan… It’s all right. I know i’m just a distraction for you. You’ll go on and be a great fairy king, and I’ll be a funny old woman telling mad stories of the prince she loved when she was a young gir–”

“No,” Aedan said flatly.

“What?” said Rei.

“No,” Aedan said, sitting up from her lap, taking her hands in his, “I won’t accept that. I don’t want to endure eternity without you.”

“Aedan, I love you, but you’re a prince. It’s not fair of me to ask you to throw all that away,” said Rei.

“You never had to ask,” said Aedan, he kissed her knuckles, “This is my will,” his eyes flicked up from her hands to her face, “Would you have me?” he asked, “If I chose a mortal life?”

“Yes,” the word fell out of her and she suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace, “Yes, of course.” She pulled out of the embrace slightly to look at him, “But… how? There’s no way your mother would permit something like that…”

“I’ll figure something out,” said Aedan, taking a lock of her hair in his fingers. He thought for a few moments. “Give me four days,” he said, “I’ll find an answer, and I’ll return to you.”

“Do you promise?” said Rei.

“I give you my word,” said Aedan, He picked up a scarlet red leaf from the ground and pressed it between his palms for a few seconds. When he opened his hand, it was a beautiful red ribbon. He plaited it into a love-knot in her hair.

“Four days,” he said, cupping a hand to her cheek.

“It won’t be dangerous will it?”

“Not dangerous at all,” said Aedan, smiling.

—

Aedan told his mother that he was leaving to visit the ruins of neighboring kingdoms, and he was mostly telling the truth. It was two days’ journey to the barrow of the Dullahan. He hardly ever left the woods—and where he did go was severely limited by the settlements of men. He took the form of a hawk to sweep over the human settlements–the scent of blacksmith forges sickened him. A day and a half’s flight and he landed among the mounds of the unseelie. Another half-day’s walk threw the bone-strewn moors and he found himself in front of the largest barrow there. Aedan stood in front of the grim mound with his hands on his hips.

“Death-Lord! I seek audience with thee!” he called into the shadows of the tomb.

There was no response. He waited around a short while, threw a few pebbles into the dark doorway leading into the mound, then called again, “Dullahan! The Prince of the Wood seeks audience with thee!”

“You’re a long way from home, Princeling,” a croaking voice came from the darkness. A hand gauntleted in black steel braced itself against the doorway of the mound as a headless figure with black smoke streaming from his neck stump emerged from the dark of the barrow. “What do the undying seek from the dead?”

“Love,” said Aedan.

“Not interested,” said the Dullahan, turning around.

“Not from you!” Aedan called after the Dullahan and the Dullahan sighed and turned on his heel.

“I love a mortal,” said Aedan, “I seek to cast my lot in with her.”

“You seek death,” said the Dullahan.

“Not immediately,” said Aedan, “I seek a mortal life.” 

The Dullahan stared at him for a few seconds, or at least stared as much as one without a head could. “Mortals come and mortals go. Would you throw away so great a gift and so much power for one?”

Aedan thought for a few moments. “You’re old as Death. Would you have done the same, once?”

The Dullahan looked down. “Once,” he admitted.

“But you never stopped thinking of them, did you?” said Aedan.

“Never,” said the Dullahan.

“So you understand,” said Aedan.

“I understand, but I will not cast my shadow over you, Princeling. Even I fear the wrath of your mother,” said the Dullahan.

“There must be something you can do!” said Aedan, “You are a Death-Lord, and you have seen the pain of loss a thousandfold. Would you doom me to know that pain unending?” 

“I am every bit a Fae as you,” said the Dullahan, “I do not give anything without a cost… however, what you request is a cost in and of itself. It cannot be freely given, but it may be earned.”

“Tell me,” said Aedan.

“In three days time, my retainers and I will hunt,” said the Dullahan, “If you outrun me and my horse in that hunt, I will grant you a boon–for what do mortals do all their lives if not outrun death? I will grant you your wish, and you will be free to live the life you choose. Even your mother cannot argue with the laws of the Wild Hunt.” 

“Then in three days time, I will out-ride you, Death-Lord,” said Aedan.

—

Rei was staring out the window of her tower, her eyes mapping out the way the stars hung over the forest.

“Two days since your last little forest romp,” a voice spoke behind her and Rei turned around in her seat to see her Lady mother in the doorway to her chambers.

“He… hasn’t broken your heart, has he?” said her mother, stepping into her room.

“No, never,” said Rei, looking back out the window, “He would never.”

Her mother kissed her temple. “Try and get some sleep, dear,” she said, before walking out of the room.

Rei sighed and tried to turn her attention to her needlework. “Not dangerous at all,” she repeated what Aedan had told her, “He’s perfectly fi–”

She heard a screech and turned in her seat to see a winged shape sweeping toward her tower. She set her needlework down and backed away from the window as a large sparrowhawk landed on her windowsill. 

“But… Gin is in his mews…” Rei said quietly to herself before her eyes flicked down to a familiar green ribbon wrapped around the sparrowhawk’s left foot, “Aedan?” she said softly.

The sparrowhawk screeched and flapped its wings.

“It is you!” Rei stroked the side of the sparrowhawk’s head, “Oh, I’ve been so worried! I thought you wouldn’t be back for another two days—”

The hawk beat its wings again and then suddenly leapt off from the windowsill.

“Wait–!” Rei called after the hawk but covered her mouth so that none of the house would hear her. “Fairies,” she muttered under her breath as she threw on her pelisse over her nightgown and pulled on a pair of boots. She slipped out of the manor, hopped the stone wall of the garden, and raced out to the forest, keeping an eye on the sparrowhawk overhead.

Rei passed through the first thicket of trees, “Aedan?” she called, her voice falling in with the sound of crickets and the chittering call of nightjars. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a pale moonlit figure through the trees and raced after him. “Aedan, come on,” she said, closing the distance between herself and the pale figure, “You know I’m not supposed to be out after–” she touched his shoulder and found herself with her hand up against the trunk of a birch tree, “…dark.” she brought her hand down from the tree and backed away from it. A trick. An illusion. Whoever had brought her out here wasn’t Aedan. She felt the chill night air and closed her pelisse tight around herself and turned on her heel, only to find herself staring up at a tall woman with short-cropped red hair, clad in a long amber and burgundy gown.

“…Oh…” Rei was backing up slowly, “You… you must be… I mean—I’m sorry, I–I’m here without permission, my–my lady? Ma’am? I mean, I’ll leave right away—”

“Leave?” said the Queen, “Why would I cast out an honored guest?”

“W-what?” said Rei, continuing to back up.

“You are my son’s paramour, are you not? The Prince Aedan?” said the queen.

“What–? That’s silly, I’m just a human—” Rei started.

“You think I’m silly?” said the Queen.

“No! Not silly! Not at all!” said Rei.

“I do not make mistakes,” said the Queen, “Why deny it then? Are you ashamed by him?”

“No!” said Rei, “Never! I love–” Rei caught herself.

The Queen drew herself up to her full height with some sense of victory. “So I was right,” said the Queen. 

Rei bowed her head, unsure of what fate might befall her.

“Oh come come, dear,” said the Queen, bringing a hand up under Rei’s chin, “I said you were an honored guest, did I not?”

“You did,” said Rei, not wanting to contradict her.

“So come with me, you and I have much to discuss,” said the Queen. With a wave of the Queen’s hand, they were both standing in a great hall with the walls veined with tree roots.

“You must be famished,” the Queen gestured at a long table laden with dozens of plates of the most beautiful-looking food Rei had ever seen. There was roast goose with gold crackling skin, pears poached in spiced wine, intricate little sculptures of spun sugar, and silver platters piled high with the sweetest, juiciest fruit Rei had ever seen. “Please,” said the queen, “Eat.”

Rei felt her mouth water but broke her eyes away from the table. _Fae food,_ she thought, _Don’t eat their food._

“My apologies, your majesty, I’m… not hungry,” Rei said.

The queen sighed and snapped her fingers and just as easily at it had been there, all the food was gone. “Very well then,” she said, walking past the table and down the hall, “Come along.”

Rei hesitantly followed after her.

They walked through the tree-root lined halls until they reached reached a large ballroom where music filled Rei’s ears and beautiful figures whirled about the floor in an endless graceful dance. The fairy court laughed and clapped and reeled and the music made Rei’s heart leap. It took every bit of willpower to not rush out and join the din of the dance floor. Never in her life had Rei heard such music that made her want to move—to leap and twirl and hook arms with any of the beautiful fae dancers moving about the hall.

“They seem to be having fun,” said the Queen, leaning close to Rei’s ear, “Why not join them?”

Why not? Why not indeed? How Rei wished more than anything in that moment to leap in and join the dancers and never stop–

_Never stop._

She was not fae. She was not one of them. She could dance her feet bloody. She could dance her feet to bones. She could dance her feet down to the bloody stubs of her ankles and she would not stop. Rei pinched herself and turned away from the dancers. “I–You said we had much to discuss?” she said, trying not to look at the dancers.

“Indeed we did. All business with you, isn’t it?” said the Queen, bringing her hand around Rei’s shoulder again and leading her away from the dancers. The music faded behind them as they continued down another corridor and the Queen smiled. “I’m impressed, many mortals warn each other against the dangers of our hospitality, but few have the willpower to actually resist it.”

“I–I really don’t mean to be rude, I just can’t stay very long, is all,” said Rei. 

“Oh but of course,” said the Queen, “Well you’ve passed the tests. Now I can finally get to know the young lady my son is so besotted with.”

Rei exhaled with relief. “I’m… glad I passed, your majesty. I would have liked to know they were tests though, I was very frightened.”

“Well you have to be very brave to love a fairy,” said the queen with a smile, “Very brave indeed. But… I am glad you passed as well.” She turned and stroked a hand down the side of Rei’s face. “Such a handsome girl, “ she said, “Such lovely skin and striking eyes.” She coiled a lock of Rei’s dark hair around her finger. “And such lovely hair. You simply must let me brush it.” 

“What?” said Rei.

“Oh it’s only the nattering of a foolish old woman,” said the Queen, playing with Rei’s hair slightly, “I’ve never had a daughter of my own, you see. This world is so cruel to girls. I brushed Aedan’s hair but as you imagine it could never quite be the same. But this…” she wove a hand into Rei’s hair, “So dark… so rich… surely you would spare me as silly a wish as brushing your hair?”

“Well… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…” murmured Rei. She had been warned against eating the Faeries’ food, and staying away from large stones in the middle of fields that had no business being there, but no one had said anything about combing hair.

The queen motioned to a chair and Rei sat down in it, then the queen produced an ivory comb and began running it through Rei’s hair. It was thick, terribly thick. Rei had had several governesses break combs trying to tame it, but the queen’s hands seemed to sweep through it clean and smooth as a river.

“My son is very fond of you,” said the queen, pushing a bit of hair aside to see the love-knot ribbon Aedan had plaited into her hair.

Rei reddened. “Oh… well… I’m… very fond of him,” she said. The queen curled a bit of Rei’s hair around her finger, and with little more than a wave of her finger and movement of her wrist, she knotted it. Rei yawned.

“Are you?” said the queen, knotting another lock of Rei’s hair.

“So much…” Rei’s eyelids were drooping. 

“Then how could you stand to break his heart so?” said the queen, making another knot with another flick of her wrist.

“Break…? Break his heart?” Rei’s voice was hoarse with sleepiness. 

“Yes… He’s one of the Fair Folk, and you’re only mortal, my dear,” said the Queen, 

“I don’t…” Rei started, but her head lolled forward and she fell into darkness.


	3. Sleep and Spiders

It took the prince another two days in the form of a swift hawk to return to the forest, but he was back within four days, as promised. He arrived in the dead of night and looked up at the moon, nearly full, but not quite.

“Tomorrow night,” Aedan said to himself as he swept over the forest, “I should tell Rei!” In a few wingbeats he glided past the forest, over farmland, to a great manor house. The stink of forges nauseated him as he flew over the little town near it, but the thought of seeing Rei again seemed to sap all exhaustion from his hollow bones and he landed on the tower window of the manor house. 

“Rei!” he called into her room, beating his wings, “Rei?” He hopped off the window sill and walked around the room, looking around. She was not in her bed, and her needlework sat unfinished on a table near her window. “Odd…” said Aedan. He was back on time, so where was she? “Perhaps she meant to meet me in the forest,” said Aedan, hopping back on the window sill, “She wouldn’t go out there after dark, would she?”

If she was out there, she shouldn’t be out in the woods alone. Aedan took to the air again and flew back to the forest.

“Rei!” he called, weaving through trees and moonlit clearings, “Are you here, Rei?”

He then heard another call in the distance.

“My Lady? Hallo?”

“Lady Rei!”

“Where are you, Lady Rei?”

“Reeiii!” the last call was half a wail. Aedan smelled steel and horses on the air and winced slightly, but followed the source of the call. Soon he made out the yellow lights of lanterns through the trees. Aedan alighted on a tree branch and looked below. There must have been a dozen men on foot with twice as many dogs sniffing the ground as well, and three figures on horseback. He could recognize the grim and graying man as Rei’s uncle, frowning and holding his bow at the ready. The other two were a fully armored knight (that explained why the scent of steel was so strong) and a fair lady with pale gold hair in a thick braid over her shoulder.

“Rei!” the armored knight called.

“Rei!” the golden-haired lady called.

_She’s missing?_ thought Aedan, _But how? When?_ He took to the air again, doubled behind the search party, landed and quietly took the form of a hound, sniffing along with the other hounds.

“It’s getting late, Lady Angela,” a footman sidled up alongside the noblewoman’s horse, “The men and dogs are exhausted, and we haven’t found a trail.”

“This forest is vast,” said the Noblewoman, who Aedan now knew was called Angela, “She may yet have gone deeper than we can track.”

“’Twould be better to set down a marker and pick up from there in the morning when our eyes and minds are sharper,” said the footman.

“But she could be hurt, or starving!” said Angela, “I cannot leave my daughter in these woods!”

So, the noblewoman was Rei’s mother, in the light of the lanterns, Aedan could see it now. 

“You said yourself she had taken a lover,” said Rei’s uncle, “Perhaps…”

“She wouldn’t leave us to worry like this. She would leave a note if she meant to be gone long, at least,” said the Knight.

“And she said he wasn’t a rake,” said Angela, “Rei’s too strong willed to just be… stolen away.”

“My lady, we need to rest if we’re going to continue this search at full strength,” said the footman, “It would only be for a few hours, but we must turn back now.”

Angela took a deep breath and looked at the knight. “What say you, husband?” she asked.

The knight flipped up the visor of his helmet, revealing a scarred face, “The men are too tired and the trail is cold. Close ranks and return to the estate,” he said, “We’ll continue the search at the first light of dawn.”

“Understood,” said Rei’s uncle, motioning to the other footmen gather together as he turned his horse around.

“I feel as though we’re missing something,” said Rei’s mother, as their footmen left their company, “Something… something doesn’t feel right.”

Rei’s uncle suddenly nocked an arrow.

“Hanzo what are you—” the knight started and Hanzo fired an arrow at one of the dogs.

“Hanzo!” Rei’s parents cried out in unison and Aedan yelped as the arrow struck his shoulder.

“There was one hound too many,” said Hanzo. 

“What are you talking about!? Those are our—” the knight cut himself off as Aedan re-took the shape of a man, gripping his arm with the arrow embedded in it, “What on earth…?”

“Rei had been behaving oddly for a while now,” said Hanzo, swinging off his horse, “Leaving saucers of milk out, coming home with those flowers braided into her hair,” He easily picked Aedan up by the front of his shirt, “I thought your kind were merely tales for children, but you have stolen my niece away.”

“There’s obviously been a big misunderstand–” Aedan started before Hanzo slammed him against a tree. Pain seared through his shoulder.

“Where is she!?” demanded Hanzo.

“I didn’t steal her! I _wouldn’t_ steal her!” said Aedan.

“And why should we trust you? Skulking about in disguise, listening to our conversation?” said Hanzo.

“I’m looking for her too!” Aedan blurted out and then his eyes widened, “That is–I mean—I… um… I _don’t know_ this human girl but… I would hate for there to be strife between our worlds on account of her—”

“You’re her lover,” said Angela, dismounting from her horse as well.

“…absence,” Aedan finished and his stomach dropped. He winced at the arrow in his shoulder.

“ _Him?_ ” said the knight.

“ _Me?_ ” said Aedan, “No I’m not her—Not that I would know if she _would_ have a lover. Since I don’t know who we’re talking about. Well–I know her name is Rei since you’ve been shouting it all over the forest but—”

“It’s him,” said Hanzo flatly, releasing the front of Aedan’s shirt.

“Wh–how do you know?” said the knight.

“Because Rei is your daughter,” said Hanzo, looking at Angela, “And like you, she’s attracted to idiots.”

“Hey!” said the knight and Aedan at the same time.

“So, you’ve lost her as well?” said Hanzo, looking back at Aedan, “The way the village spoke of them, I thought the fair folk had full control of these woods.”

“Of the woods, yes, but not of each other,” said Aedan. He wrenched the arrow from his shoulder and winced, “It had to be a fae that took her, and as prince of these woods, I take responsibility. Hence, I give you my word, I will find her and return her to you.”

“Once she is safely back in our custody, you must cut off any further contact with her,” said Hanzo.

“What?!” Aedan blurted out.

“Do you think she would be in this danger to begin with if not for your dalliance?” said Hanzo.

“We–we don’t _know_ she’s in danger,” said Aedan, “My folk are very hospitable after all–”

“Why even toy with her heart to begin with!? You know your kind far outlive any human! You—”

“I wasn’t toying with her heart! I even went to the cairn of a Death-Lord so that I might share a mortal life with her!” 

“Share a mortal life with–!?” the knight started.

“Striking deals with Death-Lords! That sounds perfectly safe for Rei!” snapped Hanzo.

“Hanzo,” said the knight, “That’s enough.”

“We can’t decide something so harsh so quickly,” said Angela. She looked at Aedan, “We have to work together to find her.”

“She is likely hidden in a place humans can’t tread,” said Aedan, “You can search for her in the places you can see, I’ll search… everywhere else.”

“Hmph,” Hanzo glanced off.

“You said you were Prince of these woods?” said the knight.

Aedan reddened, “I… yes, yes I am.”

“Then your word represents the honor of your house,” said the knight, “Did you mean what you said? About sharing a mortal life with her?”

“Of course,” said Aedan.

“…You must love her very dearly,” said the knight.

“As dearly as she loves all of you. She refused a seat in the fae court for your sake,” said Aedan.

“You offered her a—!?” Hanzo started but was silenced as Angela put a hand on his shoulder.

“Here,” said Angela, rifling through a small satchel at her side and pulling out a small vial “I don’t know how well human salves can treat fae wounds, but this should ease that wound in your shoulder.” 

“Thank you,” said Aedan, taking the vial, “Again, I promise you, I will find my Rei.”

Haunzo shot him a look and Aedan cleared his throat.

“ _Your_ Rei,” Aedan corrected himself, “Though, she’s… not really anyone’s… Rei on account of her being… her own… Rei. I’m just going to—” He turned into a a fox and ran off, limping slightly.

“Odd boy,” said the knight.

“As odd as you were in your youth, husband,” said Angela with a smile.

“At least Genji didn’t turn into a fox,” muttered Hanzo.

“He’ll find her, I’m sure of it,” said Genji.

“Or he’ll raid a chicken coop, whichever comes first,” said Hanzo.

—

The fae court was the first group of suspects to question, but Aedan found no help there. For immortal beings, his mother’s courtiers’ memories proved infuriatingly spotty. Perhaps they had seen a fair human maiden in their ranks, but human maidens come and go so quickly, don’t they? Perhaps it was yesterday, perhaps it was a century ago, perhaps it was only a dream. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. So many damned perhapses that Aedan stormed out and sought out the creatures of the wood. He turned into a fish and searched the rivers, and sighed with relief to find that Rei had not drowned in their swift cold waters. He turned to a bird and swept into flocks and murmurations, asking whether they had seen a girl. Hundreds of birds would shake their heads—didn’t see a girl, no, our kind don’t go out at night. Dawn was breaking by the time he managed to catch an owl on the way back to his roost.

“A girl? Yes, there was a girl, running through the trees and calling for your name, princeling,” said the owl, “I would have pursued her, but I was distracted by my own nightly hunt. Try a prey animal, they have to listen all the time, after all.”

So it was that Aedan took the form of a badger, dug up a warren, and dragged a poor rabbit out, taking the form of a fox once more and pinning the rabbit beneath his claws.

“Digger, listener, runner, Prince-to-prince-with-a-thousand-enemies, tell me where she is,” said Aedan, snarling.

“W-where who is?” stammered the rabbit.

“As if you haven’t heard already!” growled Aedan.

“Fine! You want to know where your little human is? Ask the one you’ve been avoiding asking this whole time! I’ll not bear her wrath!” barked the rabbit before scrambling out from under Aedan’s grip and disappearing into the brush. Aedan turned into a human again and sorely rubbed at the still-healing wound on his shoulder.

—

The queen was sitting on her throne when the prince threw open the doors to the great hall and angrily walked in.

“So you’ve returned,” said the queen, examining her nails, “How were the ruins?”

“Where have you hidden her!?” demanded Aedan.

“My beloved prince, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the Queen.

“Rei,” said Aedan, “The human girl. What have you done to her?” said Aedan.

“What makes you so sure I had anything to do with her disappearance?” said the Queen with an innocent tilt of her head, “Humans are flighty and fickle creatures after all, perhaps she simply… lost interest in you?”

Aedan’s brow furrowed. “You owe me better than lies and games, Mother,” he said grimly.

The queen looked at her courtiers and frowned.

“Leave us,” she said, and the courtiers quickly bowed and vanished, leaving Aedan alone in front of the queen.

“You did take her,” said Aedan, “If you’ve harmed her—”

“I’m not as barbaric as the humans,” said the Queen, gesturing at Aedan’s shoulder, “She’s perfectly safe.”

“Then release her!” said Aedan, 

“The humans are taking my child, isn’t it only fair that I take one of theirs in turn?” said the Queen.

“No one is _taking_ me!” snapped Aedan, “I’m leaving on my own!” He then caught himself and his eyes widened, “I mean… I… I’m….”

“So, the truth comes out,” said the queen, rising from her throne, “I formed you from white birch and sapphire, agate, and amber. I filled your lungs with the wind that shakes the trees. I gave you the shapes of all the beasts of the forest, I tell you that you will sit on my throne in the event of my death, and this is how you repay me?”

Aedan looked down, then drew a deep breath. “I love her,” his voice was steady.

“You love a human. You love a mortal. You love the last glimmer of light on the horizon with the setting sun. You love the temporary and refuse to recognize it as so,” said the queen.

Aedan’s jaw tightened, “It is temporary,” he said quietly, “Perhaps… that’s what makes it feel like it’s worth something.”

The queen looked upon him with steely eyes. “Only a fae could live for centuries and still prove themselves a fool,” she muttered, before turning away from him.

Aedan rolled his fingers at his side. “If not for my sake, then for her family’s—Please, tell me where she is,” he said.

The Queen glanced over her shoulder at him. “If I give you her location, do you give your word to cut off all contact with her once she is safely returned to her family?” she asked.

_“Once she is safely back in our custody, you must cut off any further contact with her,”_ Hanzo’s voice echoed in his head.

_“Do you think she would be in this danger to begin with if not for your dalliance?”_

Aedan’s stomach tied up in knots briefly, but then his mind swam with sunlit memories of a girl pulling a hood back from her face, of skilled light hands patching up a wound in his leg, of bright eyes, thick eyebrows, and a fierce joyful smile. 

“I might as well cut the amber heart out of my chest if I promise that,” said Aedan.

“Foolish and selfish,” said the Queen, “I will be waiting when you come to your senses. We can wait a very long time, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Aedan sighed and walked out of the throne room.

—

It was late in the day, long-shadowed, as Aedan emerged from the halls of the fae court and walked among the trees.

“No help from Mum,” he said quietly, “Suppose that’s to be expected, considering it’s her doing to begin with.” He pressed his forehead against a nearby tree in grief, “And mine,” he muttered under his breath. He had to find her, and soon. The Dullahan’s Wild Hunt would be that night, only a few hours–his only chance to break free of his mother’s influence–but if he gave up being a fae, he could very well give up his only means of finding Rei. He had to move, and quickly. He took to the form for a squirrel and scrambled up the trees.

He darted through the canopy, watching the forest floor below for any unusual signs of fae movement. There had to be something… circles of toadstools where there were no business being any, tree roots that looked a little too much like stairs, _anything._ But there was nothing—no sweet scent on the air, no mushrooms or flowers springing up in odd spots, no–

It was then that Squirrel-Aedan was sideswiped by a sparrowhawk and was so surprised by the action that for the brief few seconds he was sailing through the air in the hawk’s talons, he had a certain resignation about him. Then the hawk landed on a falconer’s glove with Aedan grasped in one of its feet.

“Bad Gin,” said Hanzo, “Not hunting. Searching. Sear-ching. We’re finding Rei.”

He held up another glove to the hawk, “ _Rei._ Not hunting. Find Rei. Now drop it, Gin. Drop it. Drooo–”

The sparrowhawk released Aedan from its talons and he retook the form of a man with a painful thud on the ground.

“Oh,” said Hanzo, looking down at him, “It’s you.”

“Why does every encounter I have with you end up with me getting mangled?” said Aedan, sitting up among the leaves on the ground.

“Perhaps if you didn’t insist on the form of animals so often, I might be less inclined to shoot you,” said Hanzo.

“Might,” said Aedan.

“Might,” conceded Hanzo, “Any luck finding Rei in your ‘unseen’ places?”

“My mother is the one responsible for Rei’s disappearance,” said Aedan, getting to his feet and dusting himself off, “But she’s no help in finding her.”

“Figures,” said Hanzo.

“I’ve been sending Gin off to find her, so we’re as desperate as you at this point,” said Hanzo, gesturing at the sparrowhawk, “He never seems to have any trouble returning to her, but I haven’t been able to pick up a trail since I started following the blasted bird… he’s likely only hunting for himself.” 

“There’s plenty of other rodents in these woods to eat,” murmured Aedan, letting the sparrowhawk nibble at his knuckle slightly, “But he picked me out.” Aedan paused, “Set him loose,” said Aedan, “Let’s see where his path ends.”

Hanzo set the sparrowhawk to the skies once more and they followed it as it glided over the forest canopy. 

“I… I should have mentioned,” said Aedan, “My mother—the queen—she offered me knowledge of Rei’s location in exchange for promising to never see Rei again…”

“And you didn’t take it because—”

“Because of the deal I struck with the Dullahan–If I can outride him at his hunt tonight, he’ll grant me a boon, freeing me of my mother. I have to find Rei before the hunt. Make sure she’s safe…”

“You’re really serious about choosing this mortal life,” said Hanzo.

“I am,” said Aedan, “We don’t know when the next Wild Hunt may be, the Unseelie aren’t as cyclical as we are. It could be next year, it could be next century. We don’t know, so it has to be this one.” 

The sun was just kissing the horizon when they reached a grove of standing stones. Gin the sparrowhawk was perched on the tallest one, beating his wings.

“Rei!” called Hanzo.

“Rei!” called Aedan. They searched all around the stones, but found nothing.

“A dead end,” muttered Hanzo. 

“And the sun is setting,” said Aedan. He ran his hands through his red hair in distress, “I’ve failed her… I’ve failed you. All that searching and it’s only lead us to these stupid roc–” He moved to pound a fist against the standing stone the sparrowhawk was perched on, but his hand only phased through into the rock, as if it were a ghost. Aedan looked at the rock and put both his palms against it. They sank into the rock, disappearing up to his wrists before he withdrew his hands again.

“An illusion?” said Hanzo, putting a hand on the rock but finding it quite solid to his touch.

“A door,” said Aedan, “But one only my kind can get through…”

“You think she’s on the other side?” said Hanzo.

“Only one way to find out,” said Aedan, walking through the stone.

He found himself in darkness on the other side. Though his eyes were still adjusting, he could immediately tell from the cool still air and the way his footsteps struck the stone beneath him that he was in a cave. He moved forward.

“Rei–PFPT” he moved to call her but found his mouth immediately full of cobwebs. His eyes adjusted and he saw that the whole cave was covered in them. Not sticky, not trapping, just hundreds upon hundreds of pale cobwebs. With a flick of his wrist he spun a dagger of black glass from the air as easy as you or I might pull something from a pants pocket and began cutting his way through the web-filled tunnel. He looked for a torch sconce in the hopes of maybe burning some of the webs away and lighting his way better, but as he went further down the tunnel, he found his way being lit by ghostly greenish mushrooms hugging the cave walls. After a lot of tedious web-cutting and brushing tiny pale spiders off of himself with nearly every step, Aedan soon emerged from the tunnel into a massive cathedral like cave chamber, just as covered in cobwebs, though significantly lighter in the chamber than in the tunnel, thanks to an apparent opening in the cave roof overhead, filling the chamber with purple-gray dusk light. And there, in the center of the chamber, framed by stalactites and stalagmites on a raised altar of stone long worn smooth by the rain from the opening above, he saw Rei. He broke into a stumbling run over to her, tripping over the uneven ground and scrambling up onto the raised stone platform to look at her.

She was laid upon a crystalline dais, with swathes of lacy cobwebs hanging over her like gossamer curtains. He shoved them aside to see her in full. Her wild dark hair had been pulled back from her face in a snood of pearl and silver, with a thick braid threaded with white ribbon over her shoulder. Her face was ghastly white, with red-painted lips. The spiders had apparently spun a dress all around her, and were still spinning it, as the trail of the gown spilled over the edge of the dais and splashed white across the ground with spiders scattering away from it as Aedan stepped toward her. Clasped in her hands was a bouquet of white flowers and bioluminescent mushrooms, and around her neck was the very green ribbon she had given him when they had first met—He could feel his mother’s magic coursing off of it now.

“Must’ve been how Mother got you through the door,” murmured Aedan, “Well then—let’s get out of here, shall we?” he gave her shoulder a shake but she didn’t respond. He frowned, shook her shoulder again. “Come on, we don’t have a lot of time—” No response. Aedan’s eyes trailed from her closed eyes to her red lips.

“Oh for the love of—Okay,” Aedan took a deep breath, bending over her, “This is to break a spell. Not trying to be creepy. Breaking a spell. I–I really wouldn’t be doing this if there weren’t a spell–N-not that I’m taking advantage of the situation! I don’t like this anymore than you do–You’re unconscious–that’s stupid–I mean–Not that kissing you wouldn’t be enjoyable! It would just… be more enjoyable if you were… awake and… Oh fuck it,” he cupped one hand to her cold cheek, then gave a brief tender kiss to her red-rouged lips and then immediately backed away several steps from the dais and waited several seconds. Nothing happened. He took a tentative step back up to the dais and looked at her.

“Rei?” he said quietly. She was still stone-like on the dais. He gave her shoulder another small shake. “Come on. True love’s kiss and all that. Time to wake up.”

She didn’t respond. Still asleep. Still silent as death. Aedan huffed. “Great. Still cursed and now I feel like a–” he caught himself as he saw a pale spider crawl up the length of her braid. Aedan’s brow furrowed a bit and he propped Rei’s head up with one hand and removed the snood and unwrapped the white ribbon from her braid with the other. He flinched back at the sight of nearly a dozen pale white thumbnail-sized spiders weaving in and out of her hair, tangling it with tiny fairy knots and wrapping those knots tight with silken thread.

“Witch knots…” Aedan said softly. He snatched several spiders up, threw them to the ground and crushed them under his heel, but more spiders descended from the ceiling above. “They can weave faster than I can crush them…” Aedan said quietly. He looked at Rei’s serene, waxy face, then drew his dagger from his hip. He saw his own red-ribboned love knot and cut that loose and pocketed it.

“You have no idea how sorry I am about this,” he said, propping her up again, bunching her hair up in a massive thick ponytail, then chopping it short.

Rei’s eyes flicked open with a gasp and she found herself leaning against Aedan.

“Aedan?” she looked up at him and smiled, cupping her hand to his cheek, “It’s you..” Her eyes suddenly widened and she looked around, “Where am I? How long have I been asleep?” she looked down at her dress, “What… am I wearing?”

“Two days,” said Aedan, not wanting to tell her that she had likely had spiders running all over her body spinning that dress, “Three, at most.”

“My family—” said Rei, “They’re probably worried sick!”

“They are,” said Aedan.

Rei’s eyes widened. “You’ve _met_ them?!

“We had to work together to find you, and now I’m going to get you home to them,” said Aedan, sheathing his dagger at his hip.

“Since when have you carried a dagger—are we in danger–!? _Is that my hair!?”_

Aedan gave a glance to the dark ponytail he was still gripping in his other hand.

“I…uh… had to break a spell,” said Aedan, “The spell was… in your hair.”

Rei felt at the now chin-length ends of her hair and then took a steadying breath. “ah… all right then,” she said.

“We still need to get out of here, there’s not a lot of time,” said Aedan.

“Right!” said Rei, swinging her legs off of the dais, jumping down, then immediately tripping on the yards-long train of the white dress she was wearing. “Ugh!” she stumbled to her feet, furious, “Dagger!” she said, holding her hand out. Aedan handed her his black glass dagger and she began angrily cutting through the silken skirts of the gown. “Asleep for two days… spider webs everywhere… wearing this ridiculous thing… and _why_ is your mother so fixated on my hair?!” she kilted the ragged remainder of the skirt above her knee. “Family’s probably worried sick and I’ve—” she suddenly found herself caught up in a tight embrace from Aedan as she brought herself back up to her full height. She returned the hug.

“I was so worried I’d never see you again,” said Aedan, muffled into her shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Rei, smiling.

Aedan nodded. The two of them journeyed back up the tunnel and stepped through the stone wall at the end to find themselves in the clearing full of standing stones again, with Hanzo waiting for them in the moonlight.

“Uncle!” Rei ran forward and Hanzo took her up in a tight hug as well.

Hanzo stroked her now-short hair and looked up from his niece to Aedan.

“Are you hurt?” said Hanzo.

Rei shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said, smiling.

“Good,” said Hanzo, “Now we can–”

He was cut off by the loud bellow of a horn that seemed to shake the very sky. 

“…please tell me that wasn’t your mother,” said Rei, looking up from Hanzo.

“No,” said Aedan, looking at the darkening moon and the dark clouds forming in the distance, “It’s the Wild Hunt.”


	4. The Wild Hunt

The great and terrible horn sounded again and Rei covered her ears. Even the standing stones in the clearing shook, moss tumbling off of them at the rubling of the horn.

“The Wild Hunt,” Rei repeated, looking at the darkening moon, “Of course!” A few seconds’ pause passed before she said, “And what’s the Wild Hunt?”

“My best chance of getting free of my mother,” said Aedan, “If I can out-ride the Dullahan, he’ll grant me a boon.”

“Outride a headless specter of death,” said Rei, “Simple enough.”

“Then we’d better get out of the woods,” said Hanzo, looking to Rei, “It’s likely not safe for humans—”

He was cut off by the sound of baying hounds a ways past the tree line. It sounded wrong though, not the bark of a loyal hound, but something unsettlingly clear and semi- conversational, like orders being relayed via barks.

“My father’s search party?” said Rei, looking to Hanzo.

“That doesn’t sound like our hounds…” said Hanzo.

A massive black shape with two white eyes like cold distant starts pushed itself through the trees. A ruby red tongue lolled between star-white teeth in a great gaping maw beneath a twitching nose.

“Definitely not one of our hounds,” said Rei, backing up slightly.

“Yes, that would be one of Mum’s,” said Aedan.

The black hound sniffed the air and its head turned sharply toward Rei. It let out a wailing howl and the distant baying of hounds suddenly quieted.

“Oh no…” Aedan said quietly. His eyes flicked down to the black ponytail he still hadn’t let go of since breaking the spell on Rei. He threw it, at the hound’s feet and instantly the hound pounced upon it and tore at the tangled mass of hair until it was nothing.

“…well they have your scent,” said Aedan.

Instinctively Rei brought up the black glass dagger of his she was still carrying from the cave, and the hound bristled at the sight of it. Aedan snapped his fingers and the dagger disappeared from Rei’s hand.

“Hey!” said Rei.

“This is not a fight you can win,” said Aedan.

“Fae,” said Hanzo, “Get her out of here.”

“Uncle—!” Rei started in protest.

“He’ll be faster and I’m not their target,” said Hanzo, “I’ll meet you at the edge of the wood.”

“You’ll have to ride me,” said Aedan.

“I’m sorry—what?” said Rei as Aedan took the form of a great white stag with a red-dappled flank, “Oh—Oh you meant—-Right.” She clambered up astride him and he took off in a swift run through the trees.

Rei wrapped her arms around his neck as he galloped, when suddenly her eyes widened.

“Wait!” she said.

‘What?” said Aedan.

“The hunt! You said the Wild Hunt was your only chance at being free of your mother.”

“Winning the Wild Hunt means nothing if you die in the process,” said Aedan, “I need to get you out of the woods and safe—”

“We are not giving up on that Hunt!” Rei took hold of his antlers, “Aedan, _please!_ ”

The terrible horn of the Wild Hunt sounded once more.

“It’s dangerous…” Aedan said quietly.

“Then we’ll stay together,” said Rei, stroking a hand down his neck, she bent and planted a gentle kiss on the side of the stag’s head, “And we’ll win it. Together.”

Aedan craned his neck to look at her–dark hair cut blunt just past her chin, the torn skirt of her white gown, and those eyes, as bright and fierce as ever, before turning his glance to the sky. “Hold on tight,” he said. He felt Rei’s bare legs tighten at his flank and her hands brace themselves at his neck as he turned around and took off in a far faster gallop than before. They crossed into a clearing and Rei kept her eyes fixed skyward as what looked like great black clouds formed overhead. Then there was a loud crack and suddenly a massive black horse and headless rider burst out from the mass of black clouds, galloping across the sky. The headless rider brandished a bright yellow lantern, and a white-boned whip made from a human spine.

“The Dullahan,” said Aedan, watching as the great black stallion galloped across the night sky and a great company of ghosts and goblins and Unseelie followed behind him in a roiling and cackling cortège, “He’s the one we need to outride.”

“But how are we supposed to get up there?” said Rei as Aedan leapt over some tree roots on the forest floor.

“Hold on tight,” said Aedan.

“You’ve said that already,” said Rei.

“Worth reiterating,” said Aedan as he suddenly leapt upward, rebound off a tree trunk then pounced off of a high bough and they both burst through the forest canopy in an explosion of leaves. Rei looked down to see Aedan’s silver hooves dancing across the the top of canopy of the forest as if it were a carpet of leaves beneath them.

“How–?!” she managed, as he galloped.

“Prince,” said Aedan and Rei smiled. 

The Wild Hunt was still far and above them, but there came a snarling from behind them. Rei looked over her shoulder to see several massive black shapes burst out from the canopy and sprinting behind them. The Queen’s hounds. They could outpace them, but Rei looked ahead to see the treeline of the woods.

“Aedan!” she cried out in alarm as they neared what was a sheer cliff of trees, but Aedan only ratcheted up his speed and leapt off from the tree line, soaring through the air. Rei squinted her eyes shut and squeezed him tight, fearing the fall and bracing for impact, but there was none. She opened one eye, then both, and found the ground was far beneath them.

“How–!?” she blurted out again.

“Fairy,” said Aedan, picking up speed. They found themselves at the very back of the hunt’s procession, though the slowest of the group were far from slow.

“Whotsat you got there, Princeling?” said a goblin, riding atop a goat skeleton.

“Seems you got a clinger!” another cackled.

“You’ll never catch up to the Death-Lord with her weighing you down!” a third called as he swept past on a massive crow.

“Cast her off!” jeered the first, “Cast her off!”

Aedan felt Rei’s weight shift on his back. “Rei–don’t–”

“Cast her—!”the first goblin got a white silken slippered foot in his face and tumbled off from his skeletal goat mount as Rei regained her position on Aedan’s back from the kick.

“Oh she’s got some fight in her!” said the second goblin, pulling in closer on his crow.

“Aedan–Dagger,” said Rei.

“I’ll do you one better,” said Aedan. A sword of black glass formed itself from the shadows of the air and Rei took hold of the hilt, then swung it at the goblin closing in.

“Cheat!” spat the goblin at them both as its crow swept out of the way, “Nasty cheats, both of you! You’re still not fast enough!”

A loud screech sounded through the air and suddenly a sparrowhawk divebombed the crow from above.

“Gin!” Rei cried in delight as the goblin swung at her little sparrowhawk with his sickle, but was thrown off by the crow’s own evasions and his own thrashings.

The sparrowhawk screeched victoriously and glided alongside them.

“You do always find me, don’t you?” said Rei, grinning, “Come on!” she called to the sparrowhawk as Aedan charged forward through the maelstrom of ghosts and Unseelie faeries.

—

Hanzo broke out from the treeline and buckled over to catch his breath, his quiver heavy on his back. The hounds had left him alone for the most part, but the sprint through the woods had been harrowing. It seemed every nasty little creature of the shadows was being called up from the earth, and drifting skyward to the terrible hunt overhead.

“Hanzo!” Genji called out to his brother and rode his horse over, swinging off of it to approach him, “You were late to the regroup–”

“We found Rei,” said Hanzo, clapping a hand on Genji’s shoulder, “She’s alive and well.”

Genji let out a sigh of relief and embraced him, “This is wonderful news!” he said, his smile stretching the scars on his face before he broke out of the embrace, “Where is she? Where is my daughter?”

“When we rescued her, The Fae’s mother set her hounds upon us. I sent her off with him,” said Hanzo.

“Trusting the prince alone with Rei?” Genji folded his arms, “Seems you’ve had a change of heart towards him.”

“He is… devoted to her,” said Hanzo, “I have faith he’ll keep her safe.”

It was then that a loud and terrible horn sounded and the two brothers brought their eyes upward to see the Wild Hunt tearing across the sky–a great flock of skeletons and ghouls and fae, laughing and chasing after a headless rider at its front.

“Well that’s not good,” said Genji, “We should reunite with the prince and Rei quickly, and get back to–” He cut himself off as a blaze of white made itself visible from the pack of shadowy beings. A girl, with dark hair in a white dress, atop a white stag with a red-dappled flank, shouting and swinging a crystalline black sword at any goblin or demon that came too close to her.

“…Rei?” Genji spoke, bewildered.

“…Don’t tell Angela,” said Hanzo, hopping astride Genji’s horse.

“Hey!” Genji protested as Hanzo rode off.

“I’m a better shot than you!” Hanzo shouted back at Genji as he rode off after the hunt.

—

The Hunt ran on for hours into the small hours of the morning. Rei’s stomach and sides and legs ached and burned from the exhaustion of riding, though adrenaline kept her blood afire, and poor Aedan, himself gifted with the strength and stamina of the Fae, was foaming at the mouth with exhaustion. But by speed and sword and antlers and force of will and luck they found themselves only just behind the Dullahan, the iron-black hooves of his horse making a thunderous sound despite only galloping on air.

“We’re almost there!” Rei shouted, running her hand down Aedan’s neck to encourage him, “Just a little further! We’re almost there–ah!” she ducked as the human spine whip of the Dullahan swept over them both. 

“ _No,_ ” a voice that sounded like tree boughs groaning in a storm surged up around them, and suddenly there came the sound of a baying of a hundred hounds. Rei looked over her shoulder to see dozens of the black dogs from earlier surging behind them, mouths foaming, star-white teeth and eyes glinting, red tongues lolling, a sea of shadow and teeth. At the very center of this roiling mass was the Queen. Rei gasped at the sight of her. She was beautiful, terrifying, clad in black glass armor with a grand antlered helm, atop a hound that was three times as large as every other dog in the pack–not pure black, but oaken black, the sinews of its muscles like the gnarled roots of trees.

“You’ll not take him!” the queen shouted, clawing out a gauntleted hand toward Rei. Rei shrieked and smacked her hand away with the black glass sword, only to flinch away from a hound that had flanked them and snapped at her.

“Stop it!” Aedan cried, knocking back one hound from Rei with his antlers, “Leave her alone!”

“Aedan! End this folly and I’ll spare her life!” shouted the queen.

“Don’t listen to her!” shouted Rei, trying to keep both the queen and the hounds at bay with only her sword, “You wanted to be free! I can do this! Just push ahead of the Dullahan! We’re so close!” Another hound snapped at her and she punched it in the nose before slashing the sword again to keep the other hounds back. “You can do this!” Rei shouted as Aedan continued sprinting forward, “We can do this! We can–Augh!” a hound had bit into her upper arm while her sword was mid-wing.

“Rei!” Aedan shouted and nearly stopped when suddenly an arrow pierced the throat of the hound biting Rei and with a yelp it released her arm from its grasp.

“What?” Aedan looked down to see Rei’s uncle on horseback, chasing after the Wild Hunt and nocking another arrow.

“Keep pushing forward!” Hanzo shouted to him.

“Rei–” Aedan started.

Rei’s hand came away bloody from the wound on her upper arm, “I’ll be fine,” she said, leaving a bloody handprint on his neck.

Another hound leapt for them only to yelp as an arrow hit that one in the leg. It fell back to lick its wounds.

“Uncle, be careful!” Rei shouted down to Hanzo.

“I could very well say the same to you!” Hanzo shouted back.

“Stinking humans!” the Queen snapped, “You _dare_ fire upon my hounds!? I’ll tear you limb from limb! I’ll tear your whole damned family tree up from the roots! You will know oblivion! Yours is a world of dust and ash and I will not allow you to take my–GAH!”

Gin the Sparrowhawk suddenly swept in and furiously pecked and clawed at her face, screeching. The queen tumbled back, angrily clawing out at the sparrowhawk and raging and railing as it beat her with its wings.

“Gin!” Rei cried out in alarm, but Aedan saw the hounds falling back to help the queen and suddenly surged forward. One last stubborn, desperate hound opened its great maw at his ankles, only to get a hoof to the face and give Aedan just enough of something to push off of to leap ahead. He charged forward and for a brief few seconds time seemed to slow. Rei looked up at the Dullahan, he and his horse towering over her and Aedan in his white stag form, looking about as bewildered as one without a head can look.

The massive black horse reared as the white stag cut ahead of it, and the horn of the Wild Hunt sounded one last time. The company of the Wild Hunt seemed to disperse as they had come, dissolving like storm clouds. Rei, Aedan, and the Dullahan and his horse descended to the earth together. As soon as Aedan’s hooves touched down on the ground he retook the form of a man and collapsed with Rei on top of him, both of them panting with exhaustion.

“So you have outridden me,” said the Dullahan, swinging off of his great and terrible black horse and landing on the ground, “So you have the boon of the hunt.”

“Finally,” said Aedan, still trying to catch his breath and stumbling to his feet, helping Rei stand up as well, “Dullahan—“

“Not you,” said the Dullahan, “I realize the whole ‘missing head’ thing makes it difficult to tell who I’m talking to, but you are not the winner, Princeling,” the Dullahan pointed to Rei, “She is.”

“I don’t understand—” Aedan started.

“Simple,” said the Dullahan. “You were the steed, not the rider.”

“So I can just make the wish for Aedan!” said Rei.

“Or you can make the wish for yourself,” said the Dullahan, “The boon of the Wild Hunt is an ancient magic, from long before the court split into Seelie and Unseelie. You could wish for anything in your realm or ours. The power you hold is even greater than—-”

“Stop this farce at once!” a clear voice cut through the air and the Queen swept into the company with her hounds prowling and baying around her.

“…hers,” said the Dullahan.

“You would give the boon of the Wild Hunt to a _human!?”_ snarled the Queen.

“I would give it to the winner,” said the Dullahan.

“You would give her the power to destroy us!” said the Queen.

“I haven’t given her much reason to destroy me,” said the Dullahan, “You, on the other hand—”

“Do you know what she wishes for!?” the Queen, seething. She took a bloody mass of feathers and hurled it at the ground between Rei and the Dullahan.

“Gin!” Rei fell to her knees at the sight of her Gin’s remains. She took the dead sparrowhawk up into her arms, staining the front of her dress red as tears ran down her face.

“Death!” said the Queen, “She wishes for death for my son like the horrible selfish little creature she is!”

“That’s enough!” Aedan snapped. 

The Queen’s head jerked toward him and her brow crinkled. “I won’t let her take you,” the Queen’s eyes were fierce, cold, wet with tears.

“You’ve already lost me,” said Aedan.

The Queen’s mouth tightened. “You’re a fool,” she said coldly, “You would choose misery and death over eternity and power.”

“I would choose freedom and love,” said Aedan.

“Love!?” the queen snarled, “What of the love I bore for you!? I, who shaped you from the last of the Godswood birch trees and precious jewels! I, who named you my heir!” 

“You only love me as you love yourself!” shouted Aedan, “You only love me as an extension of your will!”

“WHICH YOU ARE, BECAUSE I AM YOUR QUEEN!” the Queen roared back.

“You’re not a queen! You’re a monster!” Rei set her dead sparrowhawk down and sprang to her feet.

“Silence!” the Queen snapped, “Forfeit your boon, little rat. If you have any love for my Prince, you will forfeit your boon and vow never to see him again. If you continue in this idiocy, I vow to make your life a waking nightmare for you and everyone who ever loves you.”

“Never!” snapped Rei, “You don’t know what love is! All you know is power and tricking people and clinging to people and crushing them when they don’t do what you want! I– _I wish you’d leave us alone and find someone else to bully!_ ” The second the last outburst escaped Rei’s lips she slapped her hands over her mouth. Aedan felt a weight drop in his stomach. A very quiet, “Oh no…” escaped Rei and her eyes flicked to the Dullahan, “That–that wasn’t it–that didn’t count–”

“It counted,” said the Dullahan plainly.

“Wait–No, that’s not fair, I wasn’t even talking to you–I—” Rei looked at Aedan her eyes brimming with tears, “I’m sorry–I’m so sorry…”

The Queen looked at her hands confusedly, as if the “i wish you’d leave us alone’ part of the wish should cause some great transformation to her, yet she seemed unchanged.

The ground suddenly rumbled beneath their feet.

“What was that?” said Rei.

“You wished for someone else fo her to bully,” said the Dullahan.

“What does that—” Rei started and then she suddenly made a choking noise and buckled over as the earth rumbled again.

“Rei!?” Aedan was at her side in an instant, “Rei, what’s wrong?!” He looked to the Dullahan, “What did you do to her!?”

“This is the boon of the Wild Hunt,” said the Dullahan.

Aedan would have protested further but suddenly a great white birch sprang fully formed from the earth, towering over them all.

“What…?” The Queen’s eyes widened as she stepped around the birch in awe, “I haven’t seen a birch like this since… since…”

“Rei!” Aedan’s arms was around Rei’s shoulders as she suddenly vomited up two small, rough-hewn gems. A blood-red garnet and a deep blue sapphire. 

“Ugh….” Rei wiped her mouth.

“Get away from those!” said the Queen, lunging forward and snatching up the gems.

“Hey!” Rei protested but Aedan gently pulled her to her feet alongside him. He watched as the queen looked from the two jewels in her hand to the newly sprung up birch tree. She put her hand up against the tree. Aedan understood immediately what was happening.

“We should leave her,” said Aedan.

“Are you sure?” said Rei.

“This is as good a chance as we’re going to get,” said Aedan.

“Princeling,” the Dullahan spoke up, “Before you go.”

“What?” said Aedan.

The Dullahan gave Aedan a hard swat upside the head.

“Ow!” Aedan flinched, “What was that!?”

“Mortality,” said the Dullahan, “A gift and a cost unto itself. And one I can give freely to you, now that the Queen has someone new to bully.”

“Someone new?” said Rei, “I don’t get it–it’s only a tree and…” Aedan wrapped a hand around hers and she trailed off, noticing his fingers, white as birch. “She’s not going to–” Rei started but Aedan kissed her forehead.

“Let’s go home,” he said, “Get that arm of yours patched up.”

Rei nodded and picked up the body of her poor sparrowhawk. The two of them walked away from the Queen, the Dullahan, and the great white birch. A ways away they were reunited with Hanzo, who hugged Rei, and fussed over her arm, and then he brought her home to her parents who also hugged Rei and fussed over her arm. Aedan helped Rei bury her sparrowhawk in the kitchen garden and they held each other for a long time out in the gray dawn light. Then Aedan felt an exhaustion surge up from his bones from all the events and Rei’s parents allowed him to stay in a spare room in their manor house. Sleep had never meant much to the Fae, but the first sleep Aedan ever had was deep and dark and warm.

Aedan’s pointed ears stayed, a memory of where he came from, but as the years passed, he saw his freckles fade slightly and saw his cheekbones stick out more and his shoulders go broader. No longer did the scent of metal sicken him, no longer could he hear the voices of animals, or take their shape. A gift and a cost, unto itself. Still, that mattered little. The hounds of the estate and the falcons in their mews needed little words to express their affection. The world was no longer a contained and crumbling thing—of ancient empires and the graves of kings hidden away in the woods, but now a great and open place. Rei’s family soon grew to love him as one of their own, and he became a fixture of the estate just as much of the rest of the family, no longer a Prince, but loved and respected by those he came to love and respect himself. He and Rei traveled the world together. They traveled to great craggy mountains and windmill dotted hills and warm coasts with white crashing waves. They learned new languages and danced at great parties and spent warm quiet evenings reading while all tangled up in each other. And they were happy. They were truly, deeply happy.

—–

One day a good number of years later, two children, a boy and a girl, with bright eyes and hair as dark and red as claret ran through the woods, laughing and chasing each other as their sparrowhawks dipped and weaved around each other overhead.

“Not too far, now,” their father called after them.

“Will you take us to the standing stones, Father?” said the little girl, walking across a felled log with her arms spread out on either side of her.

“Perhaps the spring?” said the little boy.

“We’ll have to see,” said Aedan, glancing over at his wife. He watched her unwrap a small cake from a kerchief and place it in the hollow of a tree. He smiled. Old habits died hard, it seemed. Rei’s eyes flicked up from the cake to him and she gave a little smile as she pushed her raven hair back from her face.

“Father, look!” the little girl cried, and he broke his eyes away from his wife to see a pale shape in the distance.

“Stay close,” said Aedan, stepping next to them. He squinted as the pale shape moved out from behind the ferns and revealed itself as a massive white stag. He heard Rei’s breath catch in her throat. For a moment the air itself seemed to still as the deer looked upon the four of them. It regarded them coolly, not with the usual animalistic wary curiosity of its species. Aedan could see himself reflected in its large dark eyes as it stared at them.

“It’s beautiful,” said the little girl.

“As well he should be,” said Rei, stooping down to her level and smiling, “He’s a prince.”

“A prince!?” the boy blurted out.

The stag turned his head away from them, passed between a gap in the trees, and then disappeared into a thicket.

“Prince of the Forest,” said Rei with a nod as she rose back up to her full height.

“But how do you _know?_ ” said the little girl.

Rei gave a sidelong glance to Aedan, then looked back at her daughter.

“Once upon a time,” said Rei, “A a powerful fae queen shaped herself a son and heir from pale birch wood…”


End file.
